


Only, Always, and Forever

by Braincoins



Series: Lion Soul [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Fingering, First Time, Goofy dorks in love, Oral Sex, Shiro tries to be soft dom and doesn't really pull it off well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-14 23:50:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13601070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Braincoins/pseuds/Braincoins
Summary: While the pride is celebrating, Shiro and Allura consummate and complete their union.





	Only, Always, and Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Did you want to know what was going on in "Lion Soul" while Sam and the dominants were talking? NOW YOU CAN FIND OUT! You don't have to read this if graphic sex makes you uncomfortable. This is an "omake" or bonus scene for those who are interested. ^_^
> 
> This takes place DURING chapter 4 of "Lion Soul."  
> =================

            Shiro was surprised she wasn’t running, considering how quickly she’d shot to her feet. But he was enjoying the view as she walked ahead of him towards her tent. He couldn’t tell if it was her heart beating so fast or only his own. There was laughter behind him, ‘round the campfire, but he was focusing on the task ahead. _I can’t believe this is really happening._

            How many nights had he dreamed of this, so sure it would never happen? How long had he envisioned and planned for a reality that would never be, suddenly to find himself in the midst of it? He’d barely had time to process that this was real now: she’d bitten him, and he’d spent days and nights being reborn, and now here they were. Despite years of wishful thinking, he felt singularly unprepared.

            _No more deferring_.

            It didn’t matter that she was a dominant; not here, not now. He _could not_ allow it to make a difference tonight, because the way things stood right now was unequal. She had claimed him, and all had seen it. He was hers in their eyes. They had to be made to understand that she was his as well, that they had claimed each other, and that theirs was a _partner_ ship, not an _owner_ ship.

_I am no one’s pet._

_I just have to prove it now._

            And that was, of course, the daunting part. It was easier in his dreams. He knew Allura well, but, as recent events had shown, not perfectly. This wasn’t going to go exactly as he’d always dreamed, and he had to prepare for that. It was no wonder so many stuck to the “traditional” methods, the tried and true. He’d considered it off and on throughout the party, when he needed a moment to catch his breath and sip his tea. But, in the end, he couldn’t go that route. It didn’t feel right. Not for him, and not for Allura. So, if things were going to be difficult, well, he had no one but himself to blame.

            She got to the tent before him, of course, and held the flap back for him to enter. He inhaled, held it until he stepped through, and then exhaled slowly. He heard her tying the flap closed behind him, as if preparing for a storm. He walked a short ways away and began tugging his tunic free nonchalantly.

            “You’re nervous,” she said.

            He didn’t look over. He was used to her being able to read him. There was just one little catch now: he could return the favor. “So are you.”

            She sounded a tad defensive. “I’m excited, not nervous.”

            “It’s not just your heartbeat,” he said, looking over to her as he laid the tunic aside. “I can smell you now.” He walked the few steps over to her and nuzzled his nose into her hair, just behind her ear. “You smell wonderful. And nervous.”

            She snorted. “Like you know what ‘nervous’ smells like.”

            He straightened up to muse aloud, “I… do, in a way? It’s…sour? Sort of. Sharp. I don’t know how I know it’s ‘nervous’ but I do. Besides,” and he lowered his voice as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in against him, “you didn’t even know what ‘love’ smells like.”

            She smirked as she slid her hands up and over his shoulders to loop behind his neck. “It smells like you,” she declared softly, and, plan be damned, she had to be kissed for that.

            She made a great show of melting, clinging to him, resistance dropping to the ground like a heavy burden. He pulled away from her lips to grin. “Impatient,” he teased.

            She cocked her head in confusion. “Shiro, if this is really too soon for you, or if you’re not…”

            He lifted a single finger to her lips to silence her. “I love you. I am overjoyed to be your mate, and, no matter what Dagha thinks, it’s not too soon.” She smiled behind his finger but didn’t try to speak. “But perhaps you’ve forgotten what tonight’s supposed to be about.”

            Aaaand the confusion was back. He laughed as she tried to bite his finger in frustration, pulling it away before she could make him bleed. “Perhaps _you’ve_ forgotten what tonight’s supposed to be about,” she charged.

            He wagged that same finger at her. “Oh no. No, I know _exactly_ what tonight’s supposed to be about.” He began to circle her, prowling around behind her as he said, “Tonight is when I claim you as mine.” He slid his hands down her arms before looping them around her, hugging her back to his chest and whispering against her ear. “Tonight is for all of them to hear you surrender yourself to me.” The best part about being behind her was that she couldn’t see him blush as he finally said it.

            She shivered, and her heart picked up. He closed his eyes to breathe in the scent of her as he continued, “But you have… expectations. You know how others claim their mates: rough, hard. Pick them up, throw them down, ravish them. Is that what you think is going to happen tonight?”

            “You can, now,” she reminded him. “You’re strong enough. And it’s not like I have any intention of resisting.”

            “You want me to take you?”

            She nodded.

            “I didn’t hear you.” He was toying with the extent of the power he had, but he wasn’t sure he’d have heard her even if she’d said it. He could barely hear his own words over the sound of his heart and hers, both trying to hammer their ways out of their respective chests. He tried to tamp his down. He wanted to be able to hear her.

            But her voice was a tremulous whisper when she said, “Yes,” and he wasn’t even sure he’d heard it at all, because his nose was practically filled with the sudden shift in her scent. It’d been getting muskier ever since the kiss, but there was a _surge_ of it that nearly made him dizzy with desire. _Settle down_ , he told himself _. This is going to be a long night_.

            And, to Allura, he said, “Too bad.”

            Her sudden sharp inhale sounded almost insulted. He tried to keep himself from laughing (more out of nerves than for any other reason).

            “That is ‘traditional.’ I am not traditional, Allura, and neither are you. You deserve so much better than the same treatment everyone else gets.”

            “Even if that’s what I want?” she asked.

            “Do you really want that or is that just what you think you’re supposed to want?”

            She opened her mouth and then closed it again. He got the sense she was …waiting. The musk of her scent was still up, but fading, as if the breeze were dispersing it. Of course, there was no wind in here.

            “Tonight is when I get what I want, Allura. And what I want – what I _need_ – is to know how much you need me. I don’t want to pin you down and take you; at least, not right now I don’t.” He kissed her neck softly, and she shivered. “I don’t want to take; I want you to _give_.”

            “I’m not sure I understand the difference.” He let her turn in his grasp so she could look at him, brow furrowed. “You know that you wouldn’t be actually…”

            “No, I know. I know you’d be willing. I know you _are_ willing. The scent of you is already… distracting.” Her blush deepened and he kissed her cheek. “But I can’t have a single shred of doubt in me, ‘Lura. I’ve dreamed of this for too long, of you needing me more than you needed ‘tradition’ and ‘rules.’

            “They’re all used to the usual screams of mating. Let them hear how much you need _me_ , not just any male who can slake your desires.”

            He saw understanding light up her eyes. “Oh, Shiro,” she breathed, hugging him to her tightly in reassurance. “You are the only one I could ever want.”

            He was so grateful to hear her say it, but he needed more. And he had to say it, because assumptions had gotten them in too much trouble for far too long. “Then prove it to me. And to them.” He pulled away to look her in the eyes. “Tonight is for proving that to everybody.”

            She smirked just a little. “So, will you tell me what I’m to do, then?”

            He shrugged, feeling how hot his face was and, with it, how far he was from the smooth, confident, powerful lover he’d been in every one of his dreams about this moment. He tried to at least act the part as he said, “Some, perhaps. But I also want you to tell me what you want me to do. I can’t be satisfied unless you are.”

            She arched an eyebrow. “‘Can’t’?” she repeated doubtfully.

            “I refuse to be,” he clarified. “All I’ve wanted for so long has been your happiness.” He kissed her cheek. “In every,” her ear, “conceivable,” her jaw, “way,” and then her neck.

            Her breathing hitched a little as he lapped at the thrum of blood in her throat. One hand curled around the nape of his neck, while the other tightened its grip on his shirt. She seemed to have trouble managing words until finally an, “Oh,” came out of her mouth.

            He lifted his head to grin at her. “Eloquent.”

            She thwapped him on the arm. “Your fault.”

            “You’re welcome,” he replied, and pulled her in to kiss her lips again. It was sloppy at first, because of the quick, jerky motion and because she was in the beginning stages of a laugh when he’d done it, but they set it to rights quickly enough.

            He caressed her back, pressing her closer to him until he had to break the kiss with a small grunt of pain.

            “Shiro?”

            He cleared his throat and pulled away a little. “My personal grievances aside, your mother was a very good female, but perhaps she doesn’t need to be here for this?” He nodded down at the fang she was wearing.

            She looked down and then snickered. “Well, we can’t have her biting you from the beyond,” she teased, pulling her hands away to tug the chain over her head. Shiro let go so she could put it away. He thought he’d begrudge the brief absence, but it felt… domestic. Like home. And he couldn’t help smiling.

            She turned back to him, unbuckling her belt as she drew near. She let it drop to the ground as she came within his arms’ reach again, and he gratefully tugged her back in by her wrap to kiss her once more. The fabric was one more obstacle standing between him and his dream. Allura giggled against his lips and then hummed appreciatively as he worked on untying it.

            He had to pull away to look down at what he was doing though. “How tight did you cinch this?” he muttered.

            She snorted and batted his hands away. “Let me; you’ll be all night about it.”

            He stepped back to enjoy the show, but once she let the wrap flutter to the ground, she arched an expectant eyebrow at him. “I will,” he told her, “in just a moment. There’s something I’ve wanted to do for a while now.”

            “Oh?” she asked playfully.

            He crossed to her and smoothed his hands over her tunic. Red – a dominance color. Blood and power. He yanked it off of her and threw it across the tent. When he looked to her face again, her smile was almost shy.

            “Feel better now?” she teased.

            “At least a little more equal,” he replied. He kissed some newly revealed skin on her shoulder.

            She took hold of his head to pull his face up to hers. “We are equals, here. And here,” as she put her hand over his heart.

            He pressed his hand to hers as well, and her smile widened. “Yes, we are.”

            “Out there, I’m a dominant. In our tent, I’m just Allura.”

            “Never ‘just.’”

            She smiled and, unexpectedly, shoved him. “Go on. You’re still far too dressed.”

            He snorted. “You’re one to talk.” But he set about shedding his clothes.

            “I’d be done by now if someone hadn’t _interfered_ ,” she declared tartly.

            He threw his shirt at her face for that, and she yanked it down indignantly and threw it back at him. He batted it aside.

            “Can you blame me for wanting to personally strip you of…” He stopped as he realized what he was about to say.

            She cocked her head. “Of…?”

            “No, sorry, I shouldn’t.”

            “Shiro,” she all but growled. “We have to talk to each other if we’re to be mates.”

            He sighed heavily and turned away. It had to be said, she was right, but that didn’t make it easy. “I know you’ve wanted to be a dominant all your life and I know you’ll be a good one. I’m happy for you and proud of you, and prouder still to be a dominant’s chosen. But it doesn’t change the fact that your quest for dominance took you further and further from me. I would never have stood in your way, but, well… _that’s_ why you could never keep your promise. Maybe it’s vindictive of me, but I needed to get that dominance color off you, to feel like I finally _WON_.”

            Her arms encircled his waist from behind; he’d been too distracted to hear her move. She kissed his skin, nuzzled his spine, and laid her head against his bare back. “You won,” she agreed. “And maybe we should make our promises again, now that we’re both in better positions to keep them?”

            He looked back over his shoulder at her. “You want that? The same promises?”

            “Yes. Even once I understood why, you breaking your promise _hurt_ me, Shiro. Maybe it’s childish of me to say so, but it’s true.”

            “No more childish than my desire to triumph over a color,” he reassured her. He turned in her arms to hold her as he looked into her eyes. “I’m not leaving you, Allura. I promise.”

            She smiled up at him. “And I promise I won’t leave you behind, Shiro. Not ever again.”

            They sealed their re-pledged vows with a tender kiss, and he thought the whole pride could hear his heartbeat with how happy he was as he softly pulled away enough to gaze into her eyes and tuck some of her hair behind one ear.

            And then, with a triumphant, “HA!” she tugged on the wrap around his waist to start unwinding it.

            “Were you just doing that so you could get more of my clothes off?!”

            “It wasn’t the _only_ reason. But, since the opportunity presented itself, I decided to take advantage of it.”

            “Minx.”

            “Brat. How many times did you wind this around yourself?”

            “As many times as I needed to. At least it isn’t knotted as tightly as yours was.”

            She huffed in annoyance as she continued to unwind it.

            “Impatient,” he sing-songed again.

            “And you’re not?” She stepped in close and darted her free hand in between his legs so fast that he jumped a little.

            He grabbed her wrist and pulled it away. “Not half as much as you are, clearly.”

            She tried to pull her arm free and… couldn’t. They both blinked in surprise, and then he grinned as she pouted. “I forgot,” she muttered sheepishly.

            “Actually, so did I. It’s been twenty years of you being stronger than I am. I almost want to spar again now that I have a chance of winning.”

            “You’d rather spar than…?”

            “ALMOST,” he interrupted her. “And you need to learn to keep your hands to yourself, little minx.”

            “Aren’t you forgetting something?” she asked as a sly grin spread across her lips.

            “No, I don’t think so.”

            She wrapped her free arm around his waist and pulled him into her quickly. She was smug as she reminded him, “You’re still _mine_. Until you make your claim and even things up, you belong to me, remember?”

            Under other circumstances, he would’ve bristled at it, but as it was, he just snorted in amusement. He released her wrist so he could wrap his arms around her in return. “I’ve been yours for the asking for a very long time,” he admitted.

            “Really?” She sounded skeptical.

            “Well, that might be overstating it a _bit_.”

            “No dreams of my sneaking into your tent at night for a little fun?” she asked, her now-freed hand tracing circles on his chest.

            He cleared his throat. “I didn’t say that. But those are _dreams_. In reality, it would’ve depended on …on how you did it. If you’d just helped yourself to me because you felt entitled to me, because you felt like you really did ‘own’ me, I would – regretfully – put up a fight.”

            She nodded. “But if I came to you because I want you and need you and who gives a damn about the rules?”

            He grinned. “That would’ve been fantastic.”

            “Well, to be clear then, I don’t think of you as a possession. You’re not my pet. I’m just saying that, in the eyes of the pride and our ways, I have claimed you but you haven’t claimed me.”

            “Impatient. But also true. And thank you for saying that. I don’t want to own you, either. I love you as you are: proud, fierce, occasionally obnoxious…”

            “HEY!”

            “…beautiful,” he started interspersing the adjectives with kisses to random parts of her face and neck. “Vivacious.” _Kiss._ “Strong.” _Kiss._ “Silly.” _Kiss._

            “…Impatient,” she added.

            He straightened up. “Ha! You admit it!”

            She pouted at him. “I’ve needed you far longer than I even realized, Shiro. Why are you making me wait like this?”

            “I am enjoying the moment, best beloved,” he informed her, but the attempt at lofty indifference was ruined by his wide smile.

            “There are other moments we could be enjoying.”

            “Fair enough.” He tugged her back towards the cushions and blankets that made up her bed. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little impatient myself.”

            Her triumph was a quieter, “Ha,” than his had been.

            “Also a little nervous. I want everything to be perfect for you.”

            “You’re perfect for me. That’s the important thing.”

            He smiled and nuzzled her ear, then bent to scoop her up in his arms. She laughed as he spun her around before laying her carefully down. He straddled her but kept distance between their bodies for now, because she had more clothes that had to come off, after all.

            She was thinking the same thing, clearly, because she tried to sit up right away to get her top off, and nearly crashed her face into his. He just snickered and kissed her; she looped her arms around his neck as he worked on freeing her from her clothing. He tossed it aside, not caring where it landed as she deepened the kiss. After all, he cared less about her shirt and more about how strangely pleasant it was to have her tongue in his mouth, as well as the soft little happy sounds she was making at the back of her throat.

            He eased her back down to the cushions and let his lips trail away from hers, tasting the tales her skin had to tell: fights with her cousin, sparring with her mother, mementos from childhood mischief. Each scar told a story, texturing her otherwise smooth skin as he worked his way down. His hands were farther ahead than his mouth, and he pushed her pants down, murmuring soft thanks as she arched her hips to help him in the task.

            He took his time getting her stripped down, kissing newly-revealed skin as he went, though he skirted around the most sensitive areas and couldn’t help tickling the back of her knees as he gained access. She nearly kicked him in the face (“accidentally,” she claimed) for that, so he went back to less dangerous pursuits.

            More than anything, he liked touching her. Seeing her naked was one thing – illicit bath-watching aside, they’d seen each other’s bodies before – but to be able to _touch_ her, to watch her smile and blush, hear her breath catch and sigh and know it was all for him… it was almost unreal.

            It was her scent that convinced him. He’d never dared dream he’d be lion-souled, and even if he had, he wouldn’t have known where to begin in imagining how she smelled. Beneath the rich musk of longing and arousal was something akin to sun-warmed grass before the dew had been burned away. She smelled like an early summer morning (mixed with some ash and smoke from the campfire and the lingering traces of her soap), and he wanted to just bask in it. That scent was what convinced him this was real and better than he could have hoped for.

            He kissed his way back up her legs and pushed himself up to take in the full sight of her. “You’re so lovely, Allura,” he breathed.

            She’d already been blushing, but it flared at his words. Rather than answer, she bit her lip and reached to push his pants down. “You’re still far too dressed,” and she meant it to be teasing, but she was still a bit breathless from the tickling and kissing and stroking of her skin. It sounded almost innocent, and he kissed the tip of her nose before standing to finish disrobing.

            She propped herself up on her elbows to watch him, and all the innocence was starting to drain out of her face, chased away by what he would, in other circumstances, refer to as “hunger.”

            “I am the envy of the entire pride,” she said as he finished.

            He barked a laugh. “Oh, now you’re laying it on a little thick.”

            She beckoned him with one finger, and he got down on all fours atop her again. “I’m not, actually. Quite a few pride members – male and female – have commented on my good fortune in the last few days.”

            He bent his lips to her throat again, and skimmed a hand along her side up to her breast. “I’m ‘exotic’ to them. At least in looks.”

            She gasped a little and nuzzled his cheek. “You’re handsome,” she corrected him, “broad-shouldered, strong-armed, with a great ass,” as she ran her hands down his back.

            He chuckled against the skin of her collarbone. “I feel so valued, mate.”

            “I’m not your mate yet.”

            He raised his head and pulled his hand from her breast to her face, using just enough force to make sure she was looking at him and nowhere else. “You will be.”

            She grinned as he let go and resumed his attentions. “Promises, promises.” And then she gasped as his thumb oh-so-lightly brushed over her nipple.

            He was kissing his way down towards her other breast, but he paused momentarily to make sure that was a good reaction. Once he was convinced, he proceeded to flick his tongue experimentally over the other nipple. His reward was a sharp inhale before she licked her lips, and he settled in to see how many different sounds he could win from her just with his hand cupping one breast and his mouth enjoying the other.

            And she could make _So. Many. Sounds._ Gasps and soft moans and shuddering breaths and broken words of stuttered encouragement. It was fascinating to watch her reactions, and he was taking mental notes the whole time. _Don’t bite, but do graze teeth across once in a while. Tease, flick, toy, then engulf all at once._ These wrung the best sounds from her, and spiked the scent of her desire higher.

            He built her up again, teasing her nipple with little curls of his tongue and “accidental” teeth grazes and let his hand drift down to the blankets. It moved alongside her body as he watched her face. He pulled his hand up onto her thigh, inside, and down, his fingers probing into the thick curls between her legs as he sucked her nipple fully into his mouth. She arched a little and trembled, whimpering, and for a moment he thought he’d hurt her, but she spread her legs a little more, and he took that as a good sign.

            “‘Lura?” he asked, to be certain.

            She scraped together enough air to tell him, “Don’t you _dare_ stop,” and rocked her hips towards his hand. He chuckled and set about exploring this new uncharted territory.

            He still occasionally kissed or licked or nibbled some skin, but mostly he drank in her reactions. As before, he wanted to know exactly how to please her. She bit her lip more now than before, her body trembled, and the _smell_ of her! Running his fingers between her folds, toying with her most sensitive areas, barely brushing her clit: all these motions elicited whimpers and increasingly loud moans, but the scent was starting to drive him mad. He wanted more of it.

            He gave up his testing and moved down. One hand – the one that hadn’t been teasing her thus far – stroked the inside of her thigh as he sank his nose into the curls. He closed his eyes and inhaled: it was _strong_ and it made him twitch, made him ache, made him long to go back to “tradition” because he couldn’t remember ever being as hard as he was right now. He nuzzled into her folds and her breath was a stuttering jab and he, out of curiosity, licked her clit just once.

            Her moan was almost deafening to him.

            He did it again, and when her reaction was the same, he grinned and began seeing what other effects his tongue could have down here. He repeated the ministrations he’d given her nipple just to see (and hear and smell) how she’d respond. Then he trailed down, to the very core of her and the origin of the heady scent he was craving. He flicked his tongue just around her entrance, and she pushed herself towards him as she cried out in unmistakable pleasure. She tasted the same way she smelled, which was to say _Amazing_. She tasted nothing like he imagined dew on summer grass would taste, but it didn’t matter because everything in him said _Yes, more, please_. He’d wanted to be the source of Allura’s ecstasy for years now; he was happy to indulge himself.

            She grabbed for his hair with one hand while the other grasped the blankets beneath them; in response, he dipped his tongue into her and her hand practically spasmed, releasing him. He watched for any sign of discomfort or displeasure, but it was hardly necessary because her scent and her heartbeat were racing to see which could rise faster, which could overwhelm his new senses more.

            He licked his way inside her, relishing this new experience. He met her moans with one of his own because she tasted so good, smelled so great, and he had never dreamed of something so intense as this.

            She was barely able to start his name, and completely unable to finish it as she came, arching off the bed. He cradled her and eased her down. He kept licking, lapping up more of her, until she was panting for air. He kissed her thigh again and began his ascent along her body, kissing and nuzzling and enjoying how happiness seemed to radiate from her like heat from a fire.

            She looked comfortably boneless when he got back to her face and he nibbled on her ear and neck and made her giggle lazily. She was still getting her breath back as he petted her skin, not teasing with his fingertips but just full-palmed strokes over her chest and abdomen, punctuated by soft cheek-kisses and some more ear-nibbles.

            And even though she still seemed to be recovering blissfully, he sucked in a sharp breath when her hand drifted over and took hold of his cock. “Your turn, don’t you think?” she asked.

            He grinned. “Minx.” He leaned down to whisper, “I still have plans.”

            “If they’re anything like your last plans, hurry up with them,” she whimpered. “That was _so_ good, and I had to wait _so_ long for it.”

            He laughed again. “Well, uh… I didn’t actually plan that last part. I kind of got side-tracked.”

            She arched one eyebrow at him.

            He cleared his throat. “You smelled so good, I got curious what you tasted like, and… well, I got carried away.”

            “I approve,” she purred, fingers drifting up and down his shaft.

            He frowned and grabbed her wrist again, pulling her arm up to pin above her head. “Stop that, or I’ll get distracted again.”

            “Maybe I want to distract you.” She started to reach down with her other hand.

            “Nuh uh,” he said, catching that one before it could make its way to its destination. He pinned that arm up above her head as well. “I thought you wanted me to hurry up with my plans?” he asked archly.

            “I can change my mind.”

            “Tonight, I’M in charge,” he reminded her. He leaned down to kiss her once more, and when she melted into it a little, he released her wrists, his hands sliding down her arms to her sides again.

            Freed, she latched onto him, pulling his body down tight against hers and rutting her hips against his demandingly.

            He grinned against her lips and let his hand glide down between her legs again. _Let’s try this again. Without the distraction._

            She squirmed. “It’s still… sensitive.”

            He stopped. “Bad or good?”

            “I… can’t tell. It’s… it’s intense. Overwhelming.”

            He thought a moment and resumed petting the skin on her thighs, on her stomach, kneading her breasts softly and raining gentle kisses here and there. She sighed with relief and he smiled. “Sorry.”

            “Impatient,” she teased.

            He chuckled. “Yes, absolutely. Your scent is so arousing; it’s hard to think straight around it sometimes.”

            “You could’ve done something _else_ about that issue before now,” and her statement was punctuated by happy sigh and a giggle as he tickled her belly button with his tongue.

            “I want your happiness more than anything,” he reminded her. “And I’m not sure how long I’ll last.”

            She propped herself up on her elbows, eyebrows arched. “You’re doing this for me?”

            He stopped to look up at her. “Of course I am!”

            “Shiro,” she tsked at him, “this is supposed to be _your_ night.”

            “I know that. And it is.” He grinned and slid forward. As his face neared hers, she lowered herself back down to the blankets. “I’m making you happy. I can smell you and taste you better than I ever could have before and you’re _mine_ now, as much as I’m yours.” He kissed her lips quickly, her nose, her cheek, down to her ear. He dropped his voice to a whisper to tell her, “I’m the reason you moaned like that, I’m the one you clung to, it was my name on your lips when you came. How is this anything _but_ my night?”

            She shivered and whispered back, “You have an unusual way of defining it, that’s all.”

            He pushed himself up. “Power isn’t always brute force and screaming. Sometimes it’s subtle whispers.”

            And then he got an unexpected pillow to the face. “Stop it. You sound like Lotor,” she charged.

            “Oh, ouch, that hurts!” He grabbed the pillow she’d thrown at him and swung it at her in return.

            She blocked with her arms and reached for another cushion, and the fight was on in earnest.

            “How dare you!”

            “You know I’m right,” she told him.

            “You know _I’m_ right. And if Lotor happened to be right on this, too, well, accidents can happen.”

            She laughed and pounced on him, rolling them over so she was on top – all the better to rain down pillow-y terror upon him.

            “Hey!” He laughed and tried to grab hold of her to stop the onslaught, but she was merciless. “Allura, knock it off!”

            “Make me!” she declared. She was laughing, too.

            He took too long to admire her joy and she baffed him right across the face again. “Okay, that’s it.” He tackled her back down to the blankets and fought pillow-strikes with short, silly kisses on every piece of skin he could get at – including the areas he knew she was most ticklish in.

            “SHIRO!” She laughed and shrieked and squirmed away from him. “Stop that!!”

            “Make me,” he mocked and blew a raspberry on her stomach.

            She shrieked again and pushed his face away. “You brat!”

            “You love me,” he said, and it wasn’t a question, which was the best part. He knew it, he was confident of it, he could declare it with smug satisfaction and know what her answer would be.

            “In spite of all of this, yes, I do.” And that was it exactly.

            She tossed the pillow aside and reached up to pull him down, kissing him hard enough to make his lips tingle. Instead of lowering himself onto her, he nudged his hand between her back and the blankets and pulled her up to him, causing an, “Mmph!” of delighted surprise from her. He would’ve beamed at his ability to lift her up like that, but for now he just deepened the kiss as she tightened her grip on him.

            He did lower them both back down eventually – it’d been more of a test to see if he _could_ do it than any real need to hold such an awkward position – and let his hand drift over her skin again. Sometimes he stroked and sometimes he teased, but he kept his caresses to mostly-innocent places at first. He wanted to be sure there was nothing but an affirmative response this time as his fingers wandered gradually towards their intended destination. And this time, when he slipped his fingertips between her folds, she gasped softly and her scent picked up. _Good._

            She reached down to take hold of him again, and he didn’t stop her for now. He tried to keep his focus on feathery kisses on her skin and soft, circling strokes of her clit. Her hand on him stuttered at one point, and he made the mistake of letting her see his triumphant grin.

            “Oh, is _that_ how it is?” she growled, and the game was on: who could permanently distract the other from their appointed task first?

            Despite his determination to stay on plan this time, Allura was proving quite a deft hand at this game. He was easy to read, especially for her, and she quickly learned to tease her way up his shaft and then grip hard as her hand sank back down to the base.

            “Stop, stop…” he finally said, pulling his hand away from her and sitting up. She released him to let him back off. “You’re going to push me too far at this rate.”

            She propped herself up again. “Turnabout is fair play.” And then she pounced on him.

            Taken by surprise, he was easy to knock over, and she didn’t bother taking the time to savor her victory; she went straight for her prize. He gasped aloud when she slid her mouth onto his cock. His first thought was to push her off because he had A Plan and this was not in it, and his second thought, coming hard on the heels of the first was, _‘Push her off’?! Have you gone MAD?!_

Because this was the most exquisite experience he’d ever had, and he had to alternate between watching her to make sure this was real and this was ‘Lura and _this was really, really real_ and closing his eyes and letting his head drop back to just focus on the sensations.

            Her tongue seared a lazy path up his shaft before she sucked her way back down, taking in as much as she could, which seemed to be more every time. He groaned her name and was trying to chase down why exactly he didn’t want her doing this because right now he never wanted it to stop. The next time he opened his eyes and raised his head, he found her gaze locked on his own as if he were prey, and it sent a chill down his spine to contrast with the heat he was feeling everywhere else. He watched her mouth languidly sheathe his cock – he couldn’t look away – and sucked in a breath as her teeth grazed along his skin. He felt threatened, but he also trusted her, loved her, and he felt like he couldn’t move in any case, couldn’t do anything but lay there and watch her and try to remember how to breathe as she swallowed him whole, all the way down.

            And then, still looking him dead in the eyes, her mouth in full possession of him, lips at the base of his shaft, she _purred_ , and he lost every last scrap of control he had left. He wasn’t sure when he had closed his eyes, not even entirely sure what had happened; all he knew was that, when he finally had coherent thought again, he opened his eyes to see her wiping at the corners of her mouth and licking her fingers clean.

            “‘Lura…” he managed to choke out, voice still strangled with surprise at what had happened.

            She grinned at him. “You’re not the only one who got distracted.” She swooped in to lay next to him. “You smell good, too, you know.”

            He arched an eyebrow, but it took him a while longer to have breath enough to say, “Oh, do I? Good to know. But this still wasn’t my plan.”

            “Well, whenever you’re ready to _finally_ get around to it, let me know,” she teased. She rolled over onto her other side, putting her back to him. “Just wake me up.”

            “Oh no you don’t,” he said, rolling after her and pulling her back against him. He kissed her shoulder as she giggled. “You’re not getting away from me that easily.”

            “Who said anything about getting away? I was just going to nap since your plan seems to be taking so long.”

            “I got distracted!” he yelped defensively. “TWICE! And both times it was your fault,” he said, running a hand down her body.

            “MY fault? I can’t control how I smell!”

            “Yes, you can. It’s called a ‘bath.’”

            “Ha ha. You know what I mea –” She broke off when one of his fingers reached her clit again. She bucked her hips forward, and he lapped at her neck.

            He wanted to stop with the “soft and gentle” approach, because he’d already been distracted so much. But he wasn’t ready again yet. He had to buy time.

            Patience yields focus.

            His strokes weren’t teasing, but they were long and slow. He scooted away from her and pulled her onto her back, then sat up for better access to what he wanted. Her scent was ramping up quickly, but he kept at it. Long, slow, with the occasional dip inside her, just barely. Every time he did that, she started to arch and then would deflate when she got nothing more than a fingertip and for only a second or two.

            “Shiro.” She pouted at him like a cub denied their favorite toy.

            He started using two fingers in response. She liked that better, judging by the slightly louder moans and the sharp increase in that dizzying, wonderful musk. Her scents and sounds were bracing, invigorating him in every way.

            Three fingers, and she was louder still. She tried to grab hold of his hand, to hold it in place while she rocked her hips towards his fingers. He was strong enough to break away now, and did so, and she whimpered.

            He laid down next to her, stopped fingering her at all in favor of teasing her clit again. “I’ve dreamed of you like this for me,” he breathed against her ear. “Of you surrendering all the power you have just to be with me. Of you needing me.”

            “No one else but you,” she panted. “And I do need you, Shiro. You, you, only you, _so much_.”

            He rewarded her with two fingers slipping into her, more than just the tips, all the way inside her, watching her arch and groan gratefully.

            She dragged air into her lungs and opened her eyes to look at him. “I’ve always known I needed you in my life, Shiro. I just never knew how much.” She reached a hand up to brush his cheek tenderly. “I thought I would always have you. I thought I would never have to compete for you. You would always be with me.”

            His grin softened into a smile and he pulled his fingers out of her. “Compete? No one else could even begin to compare to you in my eyes.”

            “I had to win you back from the humans,” she insisted. “From your heritage.”

            He shook his head. “No. I always belonged here.”

            “With me.” She meant to insist, he could tell, but her voice trembled at the end.

            So he reassured her. “With you. Only, always, and forever you.”

            He bent to kiss her and she looped her arms around his neck tighter than she ever had before. He wasn’t sure she’d let him breathe if he didn’t distract her, so he plunged three fingers into her all at once, and, in her rapture, her grip loosened enough to let him break free.

            “I do need you, Shiro,” she told him, desperation starting to creep in along the edges of her voice.

            He licked his lips. “I need just a little…” He wasn’t sure how to finish that admission. Time? Motivation? Not ‘desire’ because he wanted to be ready for her so badly, but he just wasn’t _quite_ hard enough yet.

            It didn’t matter; she understood. She didn’t tease his cock this time, just started stroking him. Not fast, but sure and steady. “I’ve wondered what it would be like with you, y’know. Even when I was oblivious, when I thought this couldn’t happen. I had to wonder, occasionally, what you would feel like inside me.”

            He closed his eyes. “Did you dream of me?”

            “Yes,” she breathed. “And ever since I was made to see the truth, it’s been every night. I know I haven’t suffered as long as you have, but it felt like I could have had this and then it was ripped away from me. It felt like I wasn’t dreaming about what could happen, but instead mourning what could never be.”

            “That’s how I felt every morning,” he told her, “waking up after a night spent imagining you in my arms, finding myself alone and cold instead of snuggled up next to you.”

            “You will never feel that way again,” she promised.

            He grabbed her wrist to stop her, opening his eyes to smile down at her. “Promise.”

            “I promise, Shiro.”

            He let go of her wrist so he could settle over her. He didn’t want to look away from her face, flushed and excited, but he had to make sure he was positioned correctly. Her scent filled his nose, and if her words and her hand hadn’t gotten him ready, that would have. She reeked of needy willingness, and when he looked up at her again, her chest was heaving and she licked her lips. _I wonder if I smell the same to her, sharp and voracious and desperate?_

            He pushed a sweaty tendril of moonlight-colored hair back out of her face, trailing his fingers along and then away from her cheek. His hand dropped to her hip as he, at long last, sank himself into her.

            Almost instantly, every word but her name dropped from his mind. Sensations, emotions, but no words except, “Allura,” and he had trouble saying even that much because his body demanded air for actions more than words.

            She was all soft, wet heat swallowing him up. She practically mewed his name, and he might’ve thought he’d hurt her, but there was no pain in her scent anywhere, and she was wrapping arms and legs around him. He adjusted a little anyway and she moaned again and he leaned down to kiss her deep and savor this moment.

            Moving like this was an experiment, and it took a few moments to find the rhythm between them. But once they worked it out, it seemed obvious, effortless (despite their labored breathing). He went slow at first because he wanted to revel in the almost-overwhelming bliss, he wanted to watch her react to each motion, but he couldn’t keep that up for long.

            And, apparently, she didn’t want him to. “More,” she urged, tightening her legs around him.

            He obliged, moving faster.

            “More.”

            He plunged deeper.

            “More.”

            He thrust harder, and her demands melted into his name.

            “Keep saying my name,” he insisted.

            She obeyed.

            “Louder.”

            She did, and he didn’t bother asking for more because he needed to breathe to keep going. She got steadily louder anyway. He was vaguely aware that was necessary, but he couldn’t care about why right now. It was all he could do to rein himself in, because he wanted to see her come, wanted to feel it when he was buried deep within her. That was what he would count as the success of his plan.

            And she was tight, _so tight_ , enveloping him, and everything – her sounds, her scent – was building towards that same fever pitch she’d hit before. But he got the strangest feeling she was waiting for something.

            It wasn’t a conscious realization. It was a reflex, if anything: he leaned down and growled against her ear, “You’re _mine_ , Allura.” And then, right where her neck met her shoulder, he bit her, hard.

            “Shi-!” but she couldn’t get the rest out as she arched hard and high off the blankets, pressing herself up against him as she came, and even if he’d wanted to hold back, it was impossible. Being ready for it this time, he was more aware of the sensations, of heat and scents mixing, heady and powerful. She collapsed beneath him breathlessly, and he practically toppled over onto his side next to her.

            “Mmm,” she hummed blissfully, eyes closed. “Was that your plan?”

            “Pr-pretty much,” he managed, closing his own eyes to bask in the afterglow.

            “Good plan.”

            He chuckled. “And you are mine now. I think even the Hunter camp knows it.”

            She snorted. “I’d thwap you for that, but I don’t want to move. And you’re mine, too, you know.”

            “As I’ve always been,” he agreed.

            “And always will be.”

            “Only, always, and forever yours.”

            “Mmm, I like that.” She sort of half-rolled, half-flopped towards him, and he opened his eyes again to see her smiling at him. “And I am only, always, and forever _yours_ , my mate.”

            “My mate,” he repeated, but he kissed the end of her nose as punctuation.

            “So, have any _more_ plans?” she asked with a grin.

            “I plan to sleep at some point,” he retorted. “I want to escort the guys to their camp in the morning.”

            She pouted.

            He relented. “One more plan,” he told her. “Only this time, you’re on top.”

            “Oooh, I like it already.”

            “And then we need to _sleep_ , you insatiable minx.”

            “I make no promises.” When he groaned in mock-despair, she giggled. “I love you, Shiro.”

            “I love you, too, ‘Lura.”


End file.
